Court Martialled - Part Two
by Ali3
Summary: The second part. Continues the story started in "Court Martialled - Part One", but you could've guessed that. Read Part One first, or this piece might not make sense.


Well, here's Part Two! Much, much thanks to Karen Lewis, who gave me a complete story line for the rest of this fic . . . I haven't used it _all_, but there are still a _lot_ of her ideas in here (and in the next parts, too). So, thank you again, Karen! :-). 

I've got the rest of the story roughly planned now, but suggestions are still welcome and encouraged! Either put them in a review, or email me - alison.hale@lineone.net - and any comments or suggestions for improvement for this part, and Part One, would also be gratefully recieved. Thank you to everyone who reviewed Part One, please consider reviewing this too! 

**Disclaimer**: The characters aren't mine - I'm just using them for a little while. I'm not making any money from this! 

  


**Court Martialled - Part Two**

by Ali 

  
"Ah, Gingah," said Mac, walking up to her in preparation for the first stage of the plan. 

"Hello, Mac," said Ginger. She looked around and saw Rocky standing nearby. 

"Hey - where's your scarf, now?" Mac asked. 

"I don't know - I couldn't find it this morning." _Come on, Mac, we can chat later - get on with the script._ Ginger waited for Mac to speak. 

After a long pause, Mac leant slightly closer to her and whispered, "It's your line, Gingah." 

_Oh, yeah. Oops._ She raised her voice a little. "You remember I was saying yesterday that the eggs were getting too cold, out in the open?" 

"Aye." 

"Well, we moved all the eggs - and the hens with eggs - to the old bird house." 

"Over on th' south side of th' island?" 

"Yes." Ginger checked to see that Rocky was still listening. He had moved a little closer, and was whistling some hideous American tune in an attempt to look innocent. 

"They'll be good and warm, there," said Mac. 

"Yes - at last count there were nine, no, ten, eggs." 

She glanced sideways at Rocky, expecting a reaction, and wasn't disappointed. In his excitement, he stopped whistling and turned to stare at her and Mac. 

Ginger waved to him. "Hi, Rocky!" 

"Uh - hi, Ginger." Rocky backed away slightly, looking as guilty as Mr Tweedy trying to explain to his wife that yet another chicken had escaped. "I, um, I'm kinda busy - I'll stop and talk later . . ." 

He turned and almost ran off, in the direction of the bird house. 

"Think he swallowed it, Gingah?" 

"Oh, yes. Every word." 

"Should we follow him, d'you think?" 

"No," said Ginger, watching Rocky disappear behind the trees. "We need to be there before him - let's take the short cut." 

They did, pushing through the trees along an almost non-existant path. "You did get the trap set up, right?" Ginger asked. 

"Aye, that I did." 

They soon got to the bird house, and hid behind it. Mac rummaged under the soil and picked up the end of what looked to Ginger like a buried piece of string. _Must be part of the trap_, she thought. 

Rocky appeared, following the wider, longer, path. He was glancing from side to side, clearly afraid of meeting any one. He had a basket hanging on his wing, which he must've picked up on the way. 

"Wait until he's got the eggs," Ginger whispered. 

Mac nodded. "You tell me when." 

Ginger watched as Rocky crept into the bird house. She'd warned the hens inside of the plan, and told them to pretend to be asleep and to let him take the eggs. 

After a few minutes, Rocky came out again. The basket was clearly full, as he was using both wings to carry it carefully. There was a piece of cloth over the top, concealing the contents. 

"Ready?" Mac asked. 

"Not yet . . . wait, wait . . . now!" 

Mac yanked the string, hard. Rocky looked up into the tree above him at the sudden sound overhead. "Huh?" he said. Then the cage fell on him. 

"Aah!" he yelped astonished, somehow managing to keep hold of the egg basket. The cage trapped him neatly. "Hey! What's going on?" 

Ginger and Mac walked out from behind the hen house. Rocky looked at them. "Uh-oh . . . why do I get the feeling I'm in trouble?" 

"Because you are." Ginger held out a wing. "Give me that basket." 

He handed it to her, still too suprised to resist. 

Ginger pulled the cloth off and counted the eggs inside the basket. Ten. She passed the basket to Mac. "Here - take the eggs back, before they get cold." 

Mac nodded, and walked into the bird house with the basket. 

Ginger, meanwhile, glared at Rocky. He shrank back against the bars. _Yes, you might well look scared. Just don't expect any sympathy._ She looked at the piece of cloth in her hand. _My scarf!_

"Where did you get this?" she asked. 

"Uh - I found it lying around." Rocky pointed a wing at the cage bars. "What's going on?" 

Ginger didn't answer. Instead, she began to cluck loudly, summoning the other chickens. 

"Ssh!" said Rocky, "Someone will hear you!" 

Ginger paused to inform him, "That's the idea." Then she continued clucking. _And this time you can't hold my beak shut._

"But, Ginger," Rocky shouted, and kicked the bars. " I thought you liked me!" 

_Yes, and I still do. _

No you don't, he's an egg-thief. A smooth-talking Yankee.. 

But she didn't trust herself to reply to him. The other hens were starting to arrive now, led by Fowler. Mac came out of the bird house, carrying the empty basket, to join them. 

Fowler turned to face the hens - there was quite a crowd of them, Ginger realised - almost every hen without eggs or chicks to look after had come. 

"Quiet, please, ladies!" said Fowler, "Eh? Now - for the duration of this court-matial only - non-military personnel will be permitted to act as counsel for the defense and prosecution. Ginger is prosecuting." 

Rocky groaned. 

"And Babs has - hem - kindly volunteered to act as defense." 

Rocky buried his beak in his wings. "I'm doomed," he said to himself, so quietly that Ginger wouldn't have noticed had she not been listening. 

"Mac," said Fowler, "You have the charges, what?" 

"Aye." Mac pushed her glasses further onto her beak and opened her notebook. "Rocky - you are charged with th' abstraction of th' property of various individual hens. Furthermore, you are charged with previously consorting and fraternising with two dubious rodents, and with prevaricating in an attempt to delude the aforementioned hens." 

"What! I didn't do any of that - I don't even know what it means." 

Bunty snorted. "Four-eyes meant that you stole eggs to give to the rats - after you made a deal with them, and lied about it to the rest of us." 

Mac tucked her notebook back under her arm. "An' who are you calling four-eyes, you great big - " 

"Mac - leave it," said Ginger. 

"Ah, but Gingah, dinna you hear her?" Mac said, and sat down on the grass. 

"Well?" said Fowler, "You heard the charges, man! How do you plead?" 

Rocky looked at Ginger, who glared at him, and pointed to the basket on the ground next to Mac. _It's not like we don't have evidence. You might as well give up._

"Uh, well," Rocky shrugged his wings, trying to look nonchalant. "Guilty." 

* * *

  
As for Part One, I'd be very grateful if you could take the time to review this - even just a short review. If someone else has already written what you were going to say, write it again! I don't mind! Or email [alison.hale@lineone.net][1] - with critisism or comments etc (or fan mail! *grin*). 

And thanks again to Karen, for all her ideas, but especially the truly inspired one of having Babs for defence counsel! 

I'll have Part Three up soon (barring fatal accidents, prison sentences, and ISP failures . . .) 

   [1]: mailto:alison.hale@lineone.net



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